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Bird- Lore 



There is ever something happening among 

 our birds which teaches that with all our 

 watching and study we have yet much to 

 learn before the subject can be exhausted. 

 He who lives with outdoor nature finds 

 many pleasures. Probably one of the 

 greatest of these is to know the feathered 

 tribes and to be able to call them by name. 

 To him no walk is lonely, for he is con- 

 stantly meeting friends. Writing of meet- 

 ing friends, how often you see birds 

 touching bills with a caress, as human 

 beings do their lips! Dogs and horses often 

 put their noses together, and dogs kiss each 

 other with their tongues and salute their 

 owners in the same manner. The human 

 has apparently no patent on kissing. How- 

 ever, I believe the love demonstrations of 

 the birds to be the sweetest and most affec- 

 tionate, of all creatures. — John W. Tay- 

 lor, St. Paul, Minn. 



A Bluebird and His Mates 



In the early days of April, 1904, a pair 

 of Bluebirds came to visit us. Almost any 

 time during the hours of daylight we could 

 find them among the trees or frequenting 

 the garden at the rear of the house. Their 

 bright presence and their clear, cheerful 

 calls gladdened the time so much that we 

 wished to keep them near. A wooden box 

 with a small hole near the top was nailed 

 to a tree ten feet from the ground, and almost 

 immediately the birds chose it for their 

 home. When the nest was completed we 

 saw but little of the female, for her time was 

 largely occupied with the five pale blue 

 eggs hidden in the box. But the male was 

 usually near by, and we were all glad 

 together and waited with pleasant anticipa- 

 tion the time when the young should 

 appear. 



One cool rainy evening the darkness came 

 on early. All night the wind blew in gusts 

 and moaned through the trees. Some time 

 during the black hours the little Bluebird 

 in the box must have heard a scratching 

 of claws on the bark outside and a moment 

 later beheld the gleam of two green eyes at 

 the entrance hole. Be that as it may, in the 

 morning there were many wet feathers scat- 



tered on the lawn, and beneath our window 

 we found the wing-tips of a Bluebird. 



All day the bereaved male haunted the 

 box and near-by trees, calling, calling con- 

 tinually for his mate. However, the next 

 morning we found that his anxious cries had 

 turned to notes of good cheer and that an- 

 other lady Bluebird was among the trees. 

 At eleven o'clock I saw her enter the box. 

 Then I knew that the lonesome bird had 

 found another mate. The old eggs were re- 

 moved from the nest and the box was swung 

 by a wire two feet below a limb. Here the 

 second wife took up her abode and later 

 deposited four eggs. But again the cat 

 climbed the tree and in some way reached 

 the box, and a second time the male was 

 without a companion. 



For eleven days he mourned and then the 

 third time mated. This time his home was 

 not invaded, for the cat never came to the 

 lawn again, and a little later five young Blue- 

 birds climbed out of the box and learned to 

 {\y and gather food and sing just like other 

 little birds the wide world over. — T. Gil- 

 bert Pearson, Greensboro, N. C. 



Chimney Swift Notes 



The interesting article on the Chimney 

 Swift in the last number of Bird- Lore 

 reminds me of a note on the habits of this 

 species that may be worth recording. 



It was at Keokuk, la., on the 6th of 

 August, 1897, about 6.30 p. m., that I 

 noticed an exceptional number of Swifts 

 flying near the gable of our house. This 

 gable was covered with shingles and in it 

 was a small recessed porch; it faced south- 

 west and was strongly lighted by the setting 

 sun. I ascended to the porch for a nearer 

 view. The birds were flying so near to me 

 that I began to grab at them as they passed. 

 I then noticed that some birds fluttered into 

 the porch and lit there, and several of these 

 I caught easily; many were also alighting 

 on the wall of the house and resting a few 

 moments before resuming their apparently 

 meaningless flight. They were not circling 

 as they so commonly do at sundown, but 

 were flying irregularly near the gable of the 

 building as if there was some attraction 



